So I'm driving home after a very long day at school. I'm tired from a bad night's sleep and not quite back to my normal routine yet after the Wilma madness. The day was rough, the kids catatonic one minute and hyperactive the next. One student withdrew and came to say goodbye - setting off tears and sadness (from my students as well as me). The air conditioning wasn't working quite right, so I found myself becoming more and more "fragrant" as the day wore on. I'm hot, I'm sticky, I'm cranky. And I feel the migraine cometh.
After fighting through traffic and numerous traffic lights being out, (took me 40 minutes to go five miles), I am finally on my street and I can practically see my building up ahead. My street is very thin, and people tend to drive down it like it's the Grand Prix. Add to that it ends on the intracoastal, so half of the race car drivers are towing their giant gas guzzling speedboats behind them in their mad dash to get on the water. I'm comfortably driving along when I notice that the UPS truck on the opposite side of the road has stopped to make a delivery. I'm about 50 feet from it when the driver of the pick-up truck behind it decides to pull into my lane of traffic - completely cutting me off - and leaving me with three choices: speed up and slam into him and sue him for millions, veer into the side of the road and hope that nobody from that parking lot pulls out and slams into me, or slam on my brakes and let him pass. I opted for number three. As he drove by me - in my lane - he gave me a look like I was the one that was crazy - never once putting his cell phone down. I responded the way anybody else on the planet would have done. I flipped him the bird and called him an asshole (windows closed).
I proceeded down my street, and as I'm turning into my parking lot, I see that my cell phone buddy has turned around and is now following me back to my building. I am now out of my car and walking around to get my things out of the passenger side. I don't know why I wasn't afraid - must be the Jersey in me. He gets out of his truck and walks towards me, asking me if I live in this building. I told him yes as I reached for my pepper spray. And then I notice his dorky outfit. Blue shorts, white shirt, sunglasses....super short hair...writing on the shirt....hmmm...what's that say..
...Fort Lauderdale Marine Police.
I flipped off a cop.
He proceeds to ask me for my license and registration, and we get into a vehement argument about this. Before I go on, let me make something clear. I have nothing but respect for cops. I am always outrageously polite to them, and I have never in my life talked back to one before. But I did nothing wrong! Yes, I flipped him off, but that is not illegal and he was driving his own car - not a police car. He is the one that pulled into oncoming traffic instead of yielding - while talking on his cell phone - oh that pisses me off more than just about anything else. He tells me that it is not illegal to drive with a cell phone (well it should be!) and he can ask anyone for their license that he wants. He then says that if I don't show it to him we are going to have a problem. I honestly thought the top of my head was going to explode off. I showed him my license, all the while seething and glaring and snarling like a wild boar. And then of course, one of his buddies pulls up. I looked at him with a sugary smile and said "Need help?" He quickly waved him off.
We then argued for the next ten minutes. Him telling me that I have to be more careful, that there are crazies out there and that people have been killed for random stupid things like this. (ok ok, he has a point there) He said that is the only reason he turned around, so he could warn me to be more careful. Oh yeah? Then why do you need my license? I continued my argument that no matter what I had done, he was still the one in the wrong. He was on the wrong side of the road, and if we had been in an accident, there wasn't a cop or insurance company who would side with him.
We bickered back and forth for a bit longer, until we were both tired and actually starting to laugh. I apologized for the manual fuck you, and he of course would not admit to doing anything wrong. His repeated excuse, "I saw a pretty girl driving, I assumed she would move over, there was plenty of room." I told him to never assume anything about a girl he doesn't know.
And then we had one of those awkward moments. Do we just say good bye and let that be that? Or do we admit that we are now actually checking each other out? Cause when my breathing went back to normal and my blood stopped boiling, I suddenly realized that this guy was hot. And the fact that he pissed me off so much was ...well...kind of hot too.
But - nothing happened. We said goodbye. I walked away thinking that this would have been a great story to tell our grandkids. He said something about this being an interesting way to meet. As I entered the building, I turned and saw that he was just standing by his truck, watching the door shut behind me.